


Blood of My Blood

by telm_393



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captivity, Dark, Emotional Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Genital Self-Mutilation, Incest, Lima Syndrome, M/M, Magical Resurrecting Cock, Mental Instability, Necrophilia, Resurrection, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 00:37:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telm_393/pseuds/telm_393
Summary: The beginning and the end of Eobard and Eddie Thawne’s life together.





	Blood of My Blood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Themisto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Themisto/gifts).



> Here's some additional warnings/clarifications: the implied/referenced genital self-mutilation is meant as self-castration. It's very non-graphic and vague, but still. Just to clarify.
> 
> This is tagged as Legends fic as well as The Flash fic because the Eobard here is not Wells Eobard, it's Legends Eobard.
> 
> Thanks to the recip for the awesome prompt, I'm glad I could treat you and I hope you like the fic.
> 
> Thank you so much to within_a_dream for betaing and cheerleading, always.

The brief life of Eddie Thawne came to an end with a bullet to the chest and a few hazy moments to say goodbye.

It ended with the woman he loved promising him that he was a hero, and with knowing that he made the world a better place.

It ended with relief, because he would finally get to rest.

He’d had insomnia for years.

Eddie went out with a bang, just like he always wanted to.

The brief death of Eddie Thawne came to an end with a thrust of a man’s hips.

The man wasn’t supposed to be dead. He wasn't supposed to exist.

But he outran nonexistence and stumbled upon a corpse and decided to cheat death (not his own) to get his life back.

He was willing to do just about anything to do so, but resurrection wasn’t the easiest thing to pull off. Even having the body well-preserved, it could very well have been impossible, but he searched through alternate universes desperately anyway, trying to find something, anything.

And he did.

He was warned that the injection wouldn’t necessarily work. No matter how strong the dark magic was, there was always a chance that its endowment wouldn’t follow him from Earth to Earth, especially with his relative nonexistence, and he couldn’t just drag the body out of the Earth it had lived and died in. That wasn’t how it worked.

Eobard shrugged off the uncertainty and decided to take the chance. Found a nice house in the country to keep _him_ in and arranged the body on a King-sized bed.

Eddie’s corpse was well-preserved, good as newly-dead. It was still pliable when Eobard laid it out on the soft bed of what would its room once it came back to life, and it didn’t start falling apart or anything when Eobard took off its clothes.

He was on top of the body as soon as he could be, didn’t want rigor mortis to set in.

He stroked its jaw, its hair, and experimentally leaned down to kiss its lips.

Nothing happened. Saliva wasn’t the fluid needed to bring Eddie Thawne back.

Eobard used lube for his own comfort, and he was almost hesitant at first until his leaking cock started to warm up the body. He found it much easier to keep up his erection after that.

Eddie was a handsome man. There was no denying that.

And Eobard found that there was no arousal quite like the rush he got from fucking someone back to life as Eddie’s heart began to beat again, as his formerly still body began to shiver against Eobard’s, as his flaccid cock began to harden…

No, there was nothing quite like it.

Eddie’s eyes opened after Eobard came the second time. They were astonishingly blue, and Eobard watched eagerly as Eddie began to realize what was happening. As he began to struggle weakly, still drained from death. Eobard watched horror, disgust, absolute terror pass over Eddie’s face by turns. So expressive.

Eobard knew that this was going to be so much better than he thought it would be, that Eddie would have more use to him than just a tool for survival.

Eobard came harder then than he ever had in his life.

And he’d been alive for a pretty long time.

Some people just have all the luck.

 

 

Where Eddie lives now, Eobard is the only person that he can count on.

More than himself, even, because Eddie doesn’t know much at all. Eobard doesn’t want him to, and Eobard has the final say on everything.

Ever since Eddie woke up with Eobard inside him, too confused to scream, Eobard has been the only consistent thing in his life.

He tells Eddie stories, or facts, or both.

Eddie died, and Eobard brought him back to life. That’s the only thing that’s consistent, the only thing that Eddie can be somewhat sure of, even if he has no idea how. It doesn’t matter.

But depending on the hour, or the day, or the week, Eddie is twenty or thirty or one hundred years in the future, or maybe in the past. Never in anything that he would term the present, though. He’s always decades away from when he died, and all his friends are dead, really dead. Or maybe they’re not. Maybe they just forgot about him. The world certainly did, whatever the world is like these days. Eobard says it’s his, or at least the United States is. He’s supreme ruler, and it’s going pretty well. Eddie can’t be sure whether he’s joking or half-joking or completely serious.

It’s just that Eobard isn’t the kind of guy who calls himself _supreme ruler_ of anything without being at least a little ironic about it. He’s overdramatic, not cheesy.

But, he assures Eddie, everything has changed, because Eobard has altered the fabric of reality. No, Eobard has twisted up the timeline until it’s unrecognizable. Eobard has ripped a hole in the space time continuum, whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean. Eobard and Eddie are actually in a completely different universe.

Wherever they are, it doesn’t matter, because there’s no reality anymore, just Eobard’s stories, and as he draws new worlds for Eddie, the one outside erases itself. The only thing in Eddie’s universe that is real is Eobard, which means Eddie has to be real too, because when he looks at him he thinks he can see the family resemblance.

Eobard’s not as handsome as Eddie, though. Or at least not as pretty. That’s what Eobard says, at least. He delights in how _pretty_ Eddie is, never shuts up about it, and Eddie remembers—because he does remember things, he’s not that far gone—being Detective Pretty Boy, how he was a little proud of the nickname even though he knew it was an insult, just because he’d never been pretty before.

Now he’d rather be anything but pretty.

Sometimes Eddie bites himself until he tears skin, claws at himself until he bleeds, pulls out his hair, does everything, _everything_ he can to stop being pretty. It’s the only rebellion he has anymore, useless as it is, because he always passes out at some point, and when he wakes up, he’s completely uninjured.

It’s always like that, after he gets hurt. Eddie always wakes up shiny and soft and new, and he doesn’t know how. He’ll never know, and he doesn’t really care anymore. It’s probably future tech, or, fuck, maybe Eobard’s magic now. Eddie doesn’t think about it, or he tells himself he doesn’t think about it and thinks about it all the time anyway, either or, he’s always dwelling on things and then he’s sure that no, he doesn’t dwell on those things anymore because they don’t matter, and then he thinks about them anyway, and it repeats like a bad movie.

He doesn’t have any other movies to watch.

Over time, though, Eobard gives him some.

Movies, books, TV shows.

Sometimes he even just comes in to talk, barely touches Eddie at all. Eddie becomes more and more compliant, but, at the same time, he begins to think again. Eobard doesn’t scare him anymore. He’s just a man, really.

Man enough for Eddie to defeat, even though, well…Eobard isn’t always that bad.

He’s entertaining, and the moments that he’s nice make Eddie’s heart ache with want, but in the end that just reminds him that what he really wants is something _more than this_.

And after a while, as Eddie’s mind gets clearer and clearer, he finally figures it out. There’s still something more than this out there, and if Eddie gets out of here, he’ll be able to go back home, and it’ll still be there. His friends will still be there, even, because it’s not twenty, thirty, a hundred years in the future.

Eddie would be surprised if it’s even five.

See, most of the things that come out of Eobard’s mouth are lies, and Eddie’s found that it’s the things he doesn’t say that tend to be true, and Eobard has never once suggested what Eddie really thinks is the truth: Eddie’s only a few years in the future and there’s still a home and friends for him out there. Eobard just wanted to make things seem as hopeless as possible because they weren’t hopeless at all.

Anyway, if even Eobard can be better than he seems, this situation definitely can be.

Eddie still matters.

He knows that for a while he was what Eobard wanted. Confused. Afraid. But then he started mattering. Eobard fucked with his _own_ mind. He didn’t realize that he still had enough feelings that his sex toy could become something like a human to him.

Eddie’s watched it, his own transition from toy to person, and with every tiny concession to humanity that Eobard manages for him, he feels more and more alive.

He’s broken, but not in the way Eobard wants him to be. He’s not crushed—instead, he’s all sharp edges.

Eddie’s memory may be faulty, but he remembers home, or that he has one, and here’s the thing:

Eddie is all that Eobard has.

…But Eobard is not all that Eddie has.

Eddie will do anything to have his own life again, and it takes a while, but he finally figures out the anything that he will have to do one day or night or whatever it’s supposed to be when his mind pulls itself together enough to worry about how Eobard’s going to make Eddie have the children necessary for his own existence. Because if Eobard’s still here, he must’ve figured out some way to make Eddie have kids, and—

_Wait._

Eddie thought, at first, that there was no way to make sure that he wouldn’t be anyone’s great-great-great-great-whatever grandfather other than killing himself, which isn’t an option anymore, but now he realizes the most obvious thing in the world: he doesn’t have to die young to make sure he won’t have any direct descendants.

And, sure, he can’t exactly perform a vasectomy on himself, but he’s smart enough to know there’s another way to make sure he’ll never have kids, and sure, it might be a little brutal, but that doesn’t matter.

Eddie’s used to brutal by now, and his pain tolerance is very, very high.

 

 

 

Eobard walks into Eddie’s room and smiles. 

It’s the same smile as always, predatory as his eyes, but Eddie thinks there’s something softer around the edges by now. Eobard really does like him. Eddie thinks he’d like Eobard too if there weren’t a part of him, a part that lives in his head and his heart, that still knows there’s something wrong, that still understands that, in the end, Eobard is a stranger, and the only thing about him that isn’t a lie is his body.

Eddie gives him an empty smile and hopes for the day when Eobard frees him from his chains so he can run after he’s gone. Mentions, again, wistfully, that he wishes he could just have a coffee mug to drink from or something, just a silly thing (that could be as sharp when broken as Eddie himself). It’s an innocent, crazy little request, and Eobard rolls his eyes again and says _maybe._

He probably figures that since he’s far too powerful for Eddie to do anything to _him,_ Eddie can’t beat him in any other way.

Eddie wonders how Eobard plans to make Eddie have the kids necessary to bring Eobard into being decades upon decades later, and doesn’t want to know at all.

Eobard wants to talk today. Eddie welcomes the conversation.

“It’s boring sometimes,” Eobard muses as he traces Eddie’s jawline, face so close that Eddie can feel his breath on his skin. “Having so much power. You make things less boring.”

“You still have all the power,” Eddie points out eagerly, because that’s something Eobard has to believe.

“Do I?” Eobard muses. “Sometimes I think I don’t.” Eddie’s breath catches. In some way, he knows Eobard is saying that Eddie means much more to him than he ever wanted him to. That he means something at all. Enough to give in to his silly little demands.

Eddie thinks he’s definitely getting the coffee mug. He already got the coffee, after all.

Eobard pauses and his eyes die again as his lips lift up into that familiar smirk, and Eddie knows that snakes don’t smile, but if they did they’d smile like Eobard. “But then I remember how I wore you down. You love me now, don’t you?”

Sometimes people look at animals and what they do and give them human feelings when really they’re not feeling much of anything at all, when they’re just being. The humans are just projecting their own emotions onto the animals, seeing themselves reflected in a living mirror because humans like finding meaning where there is none.

Eddie hears hope in Eobard’s voice and thinks that that may be the case here. That it may be the case when he hears anything that may give _him_ any hope at all.

Sure, maybe Eobard really does want Eddie to love him. Maybe Eobard, in some way, loves Eddie, because he’s still a human, a social animal, and Eddie’s the only thing he has to scratch that itch.

But then again, maybe Eddie _is_ imagining things, because he imagines a lot of things, like that he’s okay with this, even though he knows he’s not, he just has to sometimes. To protect himself.

And no matter what Eobard may or may not feel, there’s enough of Eddie left to know that he wants to go somewhere where love doesn’t burn. Enough to know that he can’t love Eobard, because Eobard isn’t anything. He’s an illusion.

The only thing that’s true about him is his body.

But there’s a reason humans want everything to have meaning--it’s kind of hard to do anything at all if there’s no point to it.

So Eddie cultivates the feelings Eobard may or may not have, because if he doesn’t assume that what he sees is real, doesn’t bank on him being more than a monster, he’ll never stand a chance. He’ll lose himself completely. He doesn’t want to do that, so he holds out hope that eventually he’ll make Eobard stupid enough to give Eddie a fighting chance to leave.

_(He does._

_Eobard brings Eddie the mug that he asked for, just a little gift, see how very nice he can be, and Eddie nearly laughs, because he loves the guy, but he has this awful tendency of thinking Eddie’s stupid, and Eddie must be a better liar than he thought, because he thinks Eobard is really, really sure that Eddie’s never going to try to escape. That he’s not smart enough to anyway; certainly not smart enough to think of a plan Eobard hasn’t._

_That he’s too crazy._

_Eddie may be a little crazy, but it’s circled right back around into a kind of fearless madness. Into just enough crazy to be willing to do something terrible for the greater good, for his greater good, but just enough lucidity to know what to do and how._

_He breaks the mug and, the first time he’s alone without his chains because it’s been a while now and the remnants of his ability to love have made Eobard stupid, he uses one of the shards and does what he has to do without even thinking about it._

_It’s ugly. It hurts, because a shard of a ceramic mug isn’t exactly the sharpest object in the world. He nearly dies. But he makes it out. Somehow, he makes it out and away. Goes home._

_There’s part of him that regrets it, sure. For the rest of his life._

_But in the end he knows it was worth it, and he would do it again.)_

Eddie smiles, trapped in his timeless room in his timeless world with Eobard on top of him, and says, “Yes.”

Eobard lets out a pleased sound, and when he kisses Eddie, Eddie kisses back and knows that someday he is going to destroy Eobard Thawne.

But he’ll miss him when he’s gone.


End file.
